Hypocrite
by AeonFrodo
Summary: Celebrating her innocence after the UR-1 retrial, Athena Cykes relieves her stress in the most contradictory manner. [Contains major Dual Destinies spoilers]


Well, having Athena do something that completely opposes her beliefs was an idea I toyed with for a bit. A friend of mine said that making a character do something that they're against makes them more interesting. So this ended up being really fun to write, and I hope it's as fun to read.

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**Disclaimer: Ace Attorney and all recognisable characters belong to Capcom**

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**Hypocrite**

"Guys, I need to head outside."

Phoenix stared softly at me, giving a little nod to give me permission to go out. I thanked my boss and made my way outside. With so many people in the agency, it grew stuffy and overwhelming. The short trip was only a short elevator ride down to the first floor, so I was out of the building before I knew it. The gentle breeze caressing my skin was a welcome feeling.

Then again, today wasn't a normal day. I confronted my past, and found the truth to free Simon from his inevitable death. But my boss, Apollo and I had to fight our way through our demons and have the very fibre of our beings tested. To say it was a rollercoaster ride for all who were involved was an understatement.

But to come out of the ordeal as an innocent woman was the greatest sense of relief. After all, I truly believed for a moment that I killed my own mother. If it wasn't for Phoenix's intervention, I would've been behind bars and not standing in front of the building enjoying the crisp air.

I just felt stressed thinking about everything that happened in the past five days. I needed something so bad to relieve it quickly. My hand fumbled reaching into my pockets, with one side of my brain demanding to find the items quickly, while the other side tried to hold me back, knowing the consequences.

Once my hand touched the square cardboard box, my mind was made up. My fingers stretched to scoop up the second, smaller item and suddenly I pulled them both out of my pocket.

It was a packet of cigarettes and a cheap plastic lighter. _Just what I needed._

I flicked open the box with my thumb, taking out a stick by the filter. I placed it between my lips, letting it droop from my mouth. The texture of the filter always left a strange sensation in my mouth, but once the cigarette was lit I wouldn't care. I stuffed the packet of cigarettes back into my pocket, needing both my hands for the next part because there was a breeze.

I brought the lighter close to the end of the cigarette, positioning my thumb on the spark wheel of the lighter. I suddenly pressed it down hard, causing a small flame to ignite. I immediately brought my other hand, cupping it over the tiny flame to shield it from the breeze. Carefully, I moved the flame towards the cigarette until the smelt the tobacco burning. I let go of the spark wheel of the lighter, and the flame disappeared into nothing.

While slipping the lighter back into my pocket, I held my cigarette between two of my fingers as I deeply inhaled the chemicals. It was like I was breathing in everything that caused me stress over the past five days. Clay's death, the courtroom bombing, being suspected of murdering Clay Terran, the trials concerning my mother's and Clay's murders and everything else that added to my tension. I let the smoke fill my lungs, until I could not hold it in for any longer. Then I removed the cigarette from my lips and slowly breathed out the smoke.

The release I felt was incredible. I felt a bit light headed, with the weight of my anxieties suddenly dispersed. I swear this was the best cigarette I had ever, and it was only my first taste. I tapped the cigarette, letting the charred tobacco fall onto the sidewalk before I brought the cigarette back to my mouth.

The little voice at the back of my mind knew smoking was bad for my health. There were hundreds of chemicals mixed with the tobacco; most were dangerous for human consumption. Yet, smoking was the best remedy for dealing with my anxieties, especially when no other option was available for me.

The only problem I had with smoking was keeping it a secret from everybody here. I started smoking in my university days when an older friend gave me a cigarette on my sixteenth birthday. I didn't smoke often, but when I did, it was usually around exam time while in my friend's dorm room, studying. It was easy to keep that habit concealed and I was happy to let my peers know about it. It was a lot different here though. I was a lawyer and I wanted to retain my professional image for not only my clients, but for my co-workers too. To smoke a cigarette in front of them would put a stain on whatever reputation I had. I was amazed I managed to not get a powerful craving until after this whole ordeal.

There was also something appealing about smoking. I believed that having a healthy body helped greatly with having a healthy mind. Smoking however, invalidated the some of the hard work in maintaining that belief. Yet, I found the very act itself made me feel more alive. Perhaps it was the nicotine, or knowing that it was taboo to my healthy image. Either way, I planned to enjoy this cigarette as long as time allowed me to.

It took several, long minutes when I found that I only had half a cigarette left. I felt so relaxed, maybe even a little euphoric from smoking that cigarette. I didn't realise how much stress did build up. And to finally let it all go, and to move on... it was like the entire world had been lifted off my shoulders.

"Oh hey! Looks like you haven't gone far away."

My heart skipped a beat. Why of all times that somebody had to go outside and catch me smoking a cigarette? So much for keeping that bad habit a secret.

"Did you think I would run away Apollo?" I responded playfully, poking my tongue out.

Apollo didn't answer back. His eyes were fixated on the cigarette in my left hand. He was understandably stunned. I was probably the last person he expected to be a smoker.

"You _smoke?_"

"Why else would I be holding a cigarette?"

"So, why do you smoke?"

"It relieves stress."

I took another puff of my cigarette as Apollo spoke, "I thought jogging was your main thing to deal with stress."

"Yeah, it still is," I began, "I only smoke when I don't have any other choice. And it relieves my stress instantly. Jogging doesn't have that immediate effect."

"Just because it's a quick fix doesn't mean you should smoke to relieve stress," Apollo retorted, holding back his bubbling anger.

I was a little unsettled by his tone, but I could see why he would be so upset at me for smoking. I was a complete hypocrite, going against my own beliefs just to enjoy a cigarette. But I believe what frustrated him was that I had better ways with dealing with stress. Hell, I could've even used shouting 'I'm fine!', the stress reliever _he taught me_. But old habits were difficult to kick, especially one proven to be so effective.

Being shaken by his emotions, I blurted out, "I don't smoke that often. The last time I did was during the Themis Academy trial."

"It won't stop me from worrying about your health. Even if you do smoke much less than the average smoker, it's a dead giveaway something is bothering you."

I was halfway bringing my cigarette up to my mouth, only to freeze when Apollo finished. He had a very good point. The only time I brought a cigarette to my lips was when I was very, very stressed. Of course the only reason Apollo knew was he saw me with the tobacco in my hand and I told him why I smoked. He simply was able to connect the dots and come to that conclusion.

All of a sudden, the smoke that was oozing out of my cigarette smelled repugnant. It was like my joy of relieving stress through smoking was eroding faster than the cigarette.

"I'm heading back in," Apollo declared while walking to the door, "I'm not going to tell anybody else about this, but I hope you think about what I said."

With that, Apollo pushed open the door and entered the building. I was left with less than half a cigarette, burning the paper and tobacco slowly. He gave me a lot to reflect on, and plenty of time to do so. I could trust him; his tone was sincere about keeping this dirty little secret between us.

I turned away from the building and had another puff of the cigarette. My breath was shallow as I tasted the chemicals in the smoke building up in my mouth. But instead of the pleasurable experience I had before Apollo came, the cigarette left a bitter and sour tang in my mouth. It was like Apollo sucked out everything that was enjoyable about smoking and I get smacked with the true essence of the cigarette.

There was no way I could finish it. I let out my final tobacco scented breath, expelling the smoke from my system before I lazily dropped the cigarette butt on the ground. I stomped on the charred end, and picked it up and threw it in the trash.

Before I returned inside, I popped a few mints in my mouth to mask the stench of cigarette breath. Checking for one last time, I caught a whiff of my minty fresh breath, barely smelling the traces of tobacco.

I entered the building, feeling confident I wouldn't be thought of as a hypocrite by everyone in the agency. Well, _almost_ everyone.


End file.
